Aces High by Iron Maiden

Roll over, spin round and come in behind them
Move to their blindsides and firing again.

Launch

Jalissa Kessey, 18, District Three

At some point one would think that I'd run out of tears to cry, and yet they haven't stopped coming for hours. I haven't slept, my body is exhausted and my mind even more so, and the tears just won't dry up. It must be close to morning by now. Close to the time when Alaire will come and 'wake me up'.

I sit up on my bed and hug my knees to my chest. I don't care that Alaire thinks I'm being childish. How could I just go on and be normal after I've been told that my time alive is coming to a quick end. I'm eighteen, hardly had enough time to grow up. I am still a child, so what does it matter if she calls me childish.

I'm allowed to mourn myself and the life that's about to end.

I can feel my lips begin to tremble when I hear a knock on the door. I know who it is; I don't even bother answering the knock to allow her in. She will come in anyway, tell me to wipe the tears from my face, and whisk me away.

Sure enough, her head pokes in a second later. "Here, put this on. I'm late already. Open the door when you're changed."

She throws a bag onto the bed beside me, followed by a pair of boots that make a thud as they hit the wall. "Don't take long."

She closes the door again without waiting for a response. Shakily, I tear open the bag and set the outfit out on my bed. A pair of khaki shorts, a black shirt with a collar, and a brown, thick sweater with two splashes of mustard yellow- on the inside of the hood and in a stripe around the top of the right sleeve. I collect the boots and put them on the floor. They are sturdy, with thick laces and look like they must cost a fortune. They remind me of a slightly less nice version of the pair my father wore when he went out. These look more suited for the outdoors than his did.

I'm not sure if the tears stopped for a moment and then started again, or if they simply started falling more quickly at the thought of my father. Either way, teardrops splash down on the outfit as I pull of my old clothes and change into them. At least the clothes are dark, so I don't think anyone will notice.

There is no mirror in the room, but I can tell I look nothing like myself in these clothes. I would never pick out this outfit, it looks and feels like something boys would wear. I think of what my sister would say if she saw me right now, the laughter from thinking of what she would say dissolving back into tears within seconds.

I put my hands into the giant pockets, finding a couple of hair ties bunched into the corner. I pull them both out, putting one around my wrist and using the other to put my hair into a high ponytail. I usually prefer to have my hair down or in a braid, but the look seems to fit with the style.

After pulling on the thick, white socks and lacing up the boots, I feel at least two inches taller as I stand with my hand on the doorknob. I remember Alaire's warning not to take too long, but I can't bring myself to open the door knowing that this could be the last moment of privacy I could ever have. I relish in it a few more seconds before I force myself to slowly open the door.

There is already a guard there when I open it, which I didn't expect but I guess I should have. I look back at my little room, for a second considering slamming the door in the guard's face and throwing myself back onto the bed.

He doesn't give me that option. As soon as he sees me, he grabs hold of me by the shoulder and turns me around. I have handcuffs on before I can even think to struggle against him. It's been days since they last used these on me, but I'm not the least bit surprised they've gone back to them. It's obvious they don't trust the tributes even one bit.

"Walk in front," the guard says, his voice a lot less firm that I would have expected it to be. "Don't try anything. I have been instructed to use any force that I deem necessary."

I decide it's best not to ask what force he means, not that I'd likely be able to talk if I tried to. He puts one hand on the small of my back and gently pushes me down the hallway. There is no one else in front of us for the longest time, but after rounding a few corners I notice one of the doors opening in front of us.

I almost want to cry when I see who it is. Dressed in the same clothes as I am, the only difference being the color of her hood and stripe which are a dark grey, is Leina. She peeks out of the door, her eyes red and puffy just like I'm sure mine are. She stares at me, a silent pleading in her eyes that I wish I could answer to. I try to smile at her but only end up crying harder.

Venice Durante, 18, District Four

The chill of the morning hits me like an ocean wave as I step out the double doors. It's much darker in this part of the building, and it takes a few moments for me to realize that it's because there are no lights hanging overhead- only the dull glow of the moon. We're outside, for the first time in almost a week the wind I am feeling isn't from a ceiling fan.

I take a deep breath, but it feels as though I am breathing in something toxic. The wind is so much colder than I remember it, and the air feels so much thicker as it runs into my lungs. I cough, the convulsing that comes with it painful against the handcuffs.

"Not much further, son." The soft voice a direct contrast against the rough hand pressing me forward. I must admit that this Peacekeeper is much kinder than the ones I was handled by when I was leaving District Four. Don't get me wrong, I still want to be as far away from his grip as humanly possible, but he could definitely be worse.

My eyes finally adjust to the darkness and I am able to see where we are heading. I stop in my tracks when I see the giant, well, I'm not exactly sure what I would call it. It's giant and metallic and a lot like something I read about in a book called a robot, only much bigger. It takes another hard push on my back to get me moving again. The details of the thing in front of me both astonish and terrify me.

It takes all of the strength in me not to fight against the guard as he leads me up a ramp into the mouth of the thing. I hold my breath, imagining myself being swallowed whole by the monster and never seeing the light of the afternoon.

I squint as the lights hit my eyes, a huge difference from the gloomy sky outside. I'm not sure what I expected to find inside the monster, but I am surprised to see rows of chairs and a lot of blinking lights coming from all angles. The inside matches the appearance of the outside, very shiny and modern. It looks like some sort of metal ship on the inside, only a lot less homey.

There are already people inside, a lot of whom I recognize from the week but can't quite places names to. It's a strange feeling, the instant comfort I feel when I see Santana and Connor sitting in the back row. It calms me enough to see the familiar faces that I don't struggle when the guard pushes me into one of the empty chairs.

By the time all of the restraints are on, I am unable to turn my head enough to see Connor or Santana. Caprice, the girl from my district, is brought in a few minutes later with her face pale and teary. Everyone is silent, though I'm not sure if it's because there is someone enforcing it like there was on the train or if it's simply because we're all too nervous to speak.

The lights dim a bit, which is a relief to my eyes. Nothing else can be heard for a minute, and then a low whirring begins to come from underneath us. I'm not sure what to make of the noise, but going by the fact that none of the Capitol attendants seem to be freaking out I assume it's normal of this thing to do.

A few minutes later, three women are coming around to each of the tributes. I don't see what is happening, but my heart instantly begins to race when I hear a loud gasp from behind me. I don't have much time to worry about it because one of the women is in front of me a minute later.

She removes the restraint from my left arm and takes a case out of the front pocket of her dress. After looking carefully at it for a couple seconds, she picks a little square out of it and puts the case back away. Quickly, she pulls something else out of the same pocket. Before I have time to consider what the things are, she takes the little square and presses it onto the inside of my wrist. Then, she places the larger device over top of it and presses something on it.

Instantly it feels like my arm is on fire, I try to pull my hand away but she is holding firmly onto it. I close my eyes, not sure what that will do to stop the pain but doing it anyways. The pain lasts several seconds before she removes the device, leaving behind a less painful but still excruciating throbbing sensation.

It takes a minute before I find the courage to look down at my wrist. When I do, I feel as though I might faint. The little square that she had been holding is now inside my skin. Not on top of it, under a layer of skin thin enough that I can still see the little blue and green lights blinking on it. I turn my head away, just the look of it making me feel sick.

I'm not sure how long it takes before we reach our destination, but it feels like less than an hour. I am one of the first tributes to be taken as an army of Peacekeepers enters onto the ramp. It takes him only seconds to undo my restraints and slap a new pair of handcuffs on my wrists. The pain when it hits the place where the square was implanted is like nothing I have ever felt, and for a second my vision blurs as I stumble down the ramp.

I stop in front of a door, where my handcuffs are removed and I am pushed inside. The room is much bigger than the one I left this morning, easily two or three times the size. There isn't much in it, the most notable thing being a giant glass cylinder in the far corner.

I don't even make it to the table before my knees buckle underneath me and I am forced to the ground. For the first time since I left District Four, I burst into tears. At this point I'm not even sure what brings them- the pain in my wrist, the many sleepless nights, or the thought of death running across my mind.

Merryn Celtey, 15, District Seven

I don't even bother to try and stop the tears as they stream down my face. I've never been one to cry, but it makes me feel so much better right now. It won't do anything to change the situation, but it just feels so much better to let it out.

I've never thought about death before this week, but now it seems to be hidden in every thought my mind brings me to. It never seemed to be a possibility in my safe life in District Seven when I spent all my time in the gardens. Death was a faraway thing, something I was far to young to be touched by, and yet here it is so close that I can almost feel it.

Do you know you're going to die before it happens? Is there some sort of precursor that lets your body know that it's time to stop working so hard? That would explain the way my body feels so tired, as if the energy is being slowly drained from me in preparation.

I'm not even certain I'm scared. I was when Cateline first told me the truth about what the Hunger Games are. I'm fifteen, far too young for death to be creeping up on me so quickly. Yet I know there is nothing I can do to stop its approach.

I might be dead before the sun sets tonight. The thought that I may have unknowingly seen my last sunrise is the thing that hurts the most to think about. If I had a choice, I would have liked to spend my last week with my family and surrounded by all of the things I love in District Seven. If I would have known, I would have starred a little longer when I saw the sun rising in the morning and setting in the evening. I would have memorized the faces of everyone I cared about so that I could draw them in my mind as I spend my last hours alive.

Instead all I have are tears and regrets of what I could have done if only I'd had more time.

"Tributes, please enter the tubes."

I remember what Cateline told me about the tube, the thing sitting in the corner of the room. All I have to do is step towards it and it will open, then close again once I am securely inside it. It's simple enough, but I can't make my legs stand.

Childishly, I pull my knees up to my chest and hug myself into a ball. I don't want to go. I can't force myself to go. I can't be brave. No matter what I have resolved to myself about death, I still don't want to let it just happen. My body still won't allow it. Going into that tube will launch me up into the place that I am likely to die. No amount of courage could make me go. No matter what, my body wants to survive. No matter what I have tried to convince myself about being alright with dying, I can't make my lungs stop fighting to breathe.

The voice comes once again, this time directed at me specifically. "Merryn Celtey, please enter your tube."

"No," I sob, not sure if the word is even recognizable. I don't care about doing what they want or making things easy on the people that are doing this to me. Why should I make this easy for them? Why should I just lie down and die when I want so badly to live? The answer is that I shouldn't.

The door flies open, but my tears block me from seeing who it is that has entered. I hear them say something, but my sobbing drowns out all sound. I feel someone pick me up from the chair by the waist. I'm not ready for them to put me back down, and my legs crumble beneath me. I barely feel the impact as the ground comes up to meet me, but the crying intensifies anyways.

"Merryn, sweetheart," I hear Cateline's voice and for some reason the kindness in her voice only makes the tears come faster. I feel her hands on my shoulders, and my vision clears for a second- long enough for me to see her and the two guards standing over her shoulder.

I cling to her, unable to control myself. "Don't let them, Cateline, please don't let them."

"Sweetheart, shh, it's okay," she says. "It's time to go."

She lets me go and I cover my face with both hands, refusing to look at any of them as the two guards haul me to my feet. I've stopped crying now and with my entire body exhausted from the effort I simply allow them to drag me towards the tube.

"I'm sorry," I hear Cateline's voice once more before I am dropped onto the floor of the tube and it closes around me. I stand, wiping the tears from my face and neck. The guards are already turned to leave, but Cateline just stares at me. For the first time I notice the tears in her eyes as she looks at me.

I turn away, not wanting to see them.

Then, the floor begins to rise up underneath me. I panic for a moment, certain that I am going to be crushed between the floor and the ceiling. Then the ceiling opens up. I can see nothing above me except a huge black hole, and I'm headed right into the heart of it.

Song: Aces High by Iron Maiden.

A/N: Okay this chapter is not one of my best, I'll admit I don't feel as confident about it as I would like to. I just really wanted to get it out of my hands so that I can move onto the arena, since even after two rewrites it just was not happening.

Thank you to everyone that voted on the poll! I have opened up the results, so you can head over to my profile if you want to have a look at those. Congratulations to Kyra and Eileen who tied for first, and Dallas who was just one vote behind them.

I really appreciate all the reviews I have been getting, you guys are amazing. Keep it up? Thanks dears. I'll leave a few questions down below to get you started.

Who do you suspect will be dying in the Bloodbath?

Who do you definitely think will survive?

As a whole, how did you enjoy the Capitol and the changes that were made?

That is basically it, the Games start next chapter so I guess I would like to take this opportunity to say thank you to everyone who submitted and who has been reading. It's going to be very difficult to start killing off these tributes, honestly it will be. I hope there are no hard feelings when the tributes begin to fall next chapter.

That's it, see y'all next chapter!

PS- If you haven't already seen the story, JabberJayHeart and I have started a new SYOT in a very cool new verse. It'd be great if all of you would check it out, maybe submit a tribute? Thanks!